As many of you are now aware my adventure in Cairo has ended, and I am relaxing, recovering, and preparing for the next one -- in Florence, Italy.
To everyone who has remained with me for this long I owe a great thanks! I appreciate your time and readership very much.
Thanks again, and I look forward to talking with many of you in person soon!
Cheers,
Jonathan
Monday, August 18, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
In Search of Obama in Cairo
An article by Duke professor Mbaye Bashir Lo
Although this has been my ninth visit to Cairo, I have never experienced the type of Egyptian interest in American politics as there is at present. Four weeks ago I accompanied a student involved in the DukeEngage program to the Anglo-American hospital for treatment for a heat-related illness. Addressing me, Mr. Sherif, the receptionist, asked: “American?” When I replied in the affirmative, he said “Obama,” and gave the thumbs-up. As I was awaiting the arrival of the student in a different car, I requested a pen and paper. As our conversation co
ntinued, I attempted to look for the meaning that lay beyond what he was saying. Why was this gentleman from Upper Egypt so interested in Barack Obama? Behind his desk, there were sketched photos of Obama taken from different Egyptian newspapers. Ironically, he did not know the name of Obama’s challenger, Senator John McCain. Therefore, I was not able to obtain a satisfactory answer to my questions regarding the popularity of Obama among Cairenes. However, my experiences over the next few weeks would further fuel my interest in the phenomenon of Barack Obama’s immense popularity in Egypt.
Only a week ago, the DukeEngagers had been invited to give a talk at Cairo University about the American election. As the students debated over how best to begin the discussion, how to address the audience’s questions, and how to represent every point-of-view, the host, Professor Abu al-Aynein, initiated the conversation by asking about the phenomena of Obama: its roots and core constituency. One of the DukeEngagers, Jon, connected the phenomenon to the rise of a new force in American politics, the cyberspace community that wants to take back politics from Washington. A doctoral candidate from the audience wanted to know the relationship between these online communities and Obama; who is the agent and who is the product? Jon’s explanation lacked the necessary detail to address the many dimensions of the question, and for the next 40 minutes, the discussion centered on Obama. A diplomat from Libya who introduced himself as Dr. Mahmoud noted that he had come to the talk because everyone from China to Saudi Arabia has an interest in Obama’a focus on taghyir, or change, and he was hoping to get an answer from the DukeEngagers.
Our host stated that in his view, Obama is the best thing that is happening in the world right now, but he wondered about the implications of his desire for change: “What does it mean for us---those in the Middle East? Is it [a] continuation of the current policies under a new administration, or a shift from the failed policies?” The students differed in their responses to these questions. One student, Brittany, then suggested that John McCain was the better candidate. The audience was less interested in McCain, whom they generally referred to as Obama’s challenger. Over time, the debate shifted to the DukeEngagers, as the members of the audience appeared to be unanimous in their interest in Obama. Another doctoral student asked a DukeEngager, Dylan, if Obama represented the end of the era of the White Anglo-Saxon Protestant Male (WASP). Dylan appeared to be surprised to hear that term being used in Cairo, and seemed uncomfortable with the question.
To get a better prospective, I called my friend, professor Helmi Sharawi, who is a leading political analyst in Egypt. I asked him for his opinion of Obama. He insisted that I visit him at his house in ‘Ajouza to follow-up on the topic. The next day, we spent two hours discussing politics, during which time he demonstrated little interest in or knowledge of John McCain. At the end of the discussion, he gave me his Obama article in a June edition of the Egyptian National Newspaper, “Al-Ahali,” in which he notes, “Obama’s taghyir is a unique test in the America’s quest for change. I should rather say, the world community yearns for a changed America due to the devastating policies of the outgoing president.”
Two weeks later, I talked to Egypt’s most popular novelist in the post-Naguib Mahfouz era, Alaa Al-Aswani, about arranging a DukeEngage meeting the following week. At the end of our conversation, I solicited his views regarding the upcoming election (without referring to either of the candidates). Without ever mentioning Obama’s rival, he stated “Everyone in Egypt and the Arab world supports Obama, even though he supports Israel. We love what he represents.” He continued, “I am personally very emotional about Obama’s candidacy. I got my masters degree from Chicago, Illinois, and that is the name of my last novel—Chicago.” The following week, we attended his literary Salon, where issues of culture and politics are discussed weekly. It was ironic that as Dr. Karima al-Hafnawi, an executive member in the Kefaya opposition movement (a grassroots organization that opposes President Mubarak’s re-election or his son’s appointment in Mubarak’s place), spoke, she said that “Kefaya stands for all those at the grassroots, whether in Cairo or in the United States. It is against the government of the few—the big businesses—the multi-billion dollar companies. In the United States, it stands for what Michael Moore and Obama stand for.”
All of these experiences have further fueled my desire to understand this widespread interest in Obama, as without exception, everyone has expressed an affinity for him. I can remember the old man at the corner store of our street in Garden City telling me that he likes Obama because "huwa Zayyana" (he is like us), although he never succeeded in explaining what he meant by “Zayyana.” Between June 21 and July 25 I have reviewed four leading Egyptian daily newspapers. I have counted 18 columns with subtitles about Obama, and none about McCain. In the instances in which McCain was mentioned, it was in the context of explaining Obama’s politics. For example, on July 7, there were two columns a
bout Obama in the leading daily newspaper, “Al-Ahram.” Each attempted to analyze Obama. One was titled “the Middle East …in the aftermath of [the] Obama revolution,” and the second one carried the title “Obama: the author.” Both articles attempted to introduce Obama to an Arab reader, but in a positive light; both articles also discussed the possibility of a conspiracy to prevent his election on the part of interests groups. In the first article, the writer discussed the history of the rise of the lobbies within Congress, and the various obstacles to reforming the current system. He then compared the efforts of both McCain and Obama in implementing this reform. He concluded by stating his preference for Obama over McCain as the most legitimate reformer, and the candidate best positioned to implement the necessary reforms. In the second, article, the writer criticized the lack of quality translations of important works in the Arab world, where traditionally, “Egypt writes and translates, Lebanon publishes and Iraq reads.” He then suggested that Obama’s two books, Dreams of My Father and The Audacity of Hope be translated. The author then presented a picture of Obama taken entirely from the two books, arguing that he is a man of words, literature and charisma. The last sentence in the article stated, “He is a president made by his relationship with words—either written or spoken.”
Since the mosque is most free space in the Arab world, and since the sphere that guides politics and perception in Middle East often emerges from the culture of the mosque, and since imams, although marginalized in the War on Terror, are the most influential social agents in the Middle East, I decided to bring the topic of Obama’s phenomenal popularity
to the mosque. I visited Masjid ‘Amr Makram, which is the official mosque of Cairo. It is located just behind the Mugamma building, and about a half-mile from the American University in Cairo. I waited for about a half-hour as the middle-aged imam, Dr. ‘Azaam, talked to the people who had come to meet with him following the Friday prayer, until he grabbed my hand and motioned for me to walk with him. We talked about the general political issues, but while he never mentioned McCain’s name, he repeated the phrase “Obama kwayez” (Obama is good). He wanted for us to meet later in the week, but unfortunately I was too pre-occupied to take up his offer. This experience was similar to what I had encountered on another occasion, when Imam Muhammad Hammad of the landmark mosque of Al-Refa'i addressed me as “Obama” as we were taking a photo, despite the fact that neither Obama nor the election had been a part of our discussion of Sufism. As we met in his office in the mosque three weeks later, I asked him f
or his views on the upcoming election in the U.S., to which he replied, “May Allah support Obama.” When I inquired into the reason for such a strong statement, he said, “Don’t you see the catastrophic policies in Iraq.” A couple of DukeEngage students wanted me to translate what he was saying in Arabic, and as a result, our conversation was cut short. However, I could not help questioning the logic of his response. Barack Obama is not running against Bush, so why was he bringing up Bush’s name in the discussion? The only possible answer was that for him, McCain represents a continuation of the policies of the current president.
Following my conversation with the imam, I attended a Sufi halaqa that has been taking place at the mosque for decades. Sufism embodies the spiritual dimension of Islam that cuts across the Shi’a and Sunni divide. This is among the few mosques in Cairo where one can attend a Sufi “dance,” as DukeEngagers call this ritual practice. After the service, I asked the Sheikh about his views on the election. The neatly-dressed Sheikh flashed a wide smile, and gave me some candy before commenting that “Siyasa, bas Mashakil” (politics are only problems). That marked the end of my search of Obama with the Sheikh, and I walked with him to see the tomb of the Shah of Iran and other Egyptian leaders in the back of the mosque.
Sufi apathy toward politics is as old as the Shi’a Sunni’s divide in Islam. This stems from the Sufi’s reaction to the two groups’ preoccupation with power transfer after the death of the Prophet of Islam, with the Shi’a support going to ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib, the Prophet’s nephew, and Sunni support going in favor the other caliphates . As this conflict took a bloody turn, the Sufi movement intensified in Mecca, and then in many other corners in the Muslim world. They argue that Islam is a self-perpetuated spiritual journey, far away from worldly politics. They also reconstructed the meaning of jihad to its higher scope—the personal—the inner struggle. This refrain from politics has been problematic for most Sufi who are often described in Muslim intellectual discourse as not aloof to oppressive regimes, friend of colonial authorities, and in modern time, as unable to offer a constructive insight to the challenges of modernity. Naguib Mahfouz’s 1961 novel, The Thief and the Dogs, highlighted how the inability of a Sufi sheikh to help the main character, Said Mahran, address real life problem created social anarchy. Mahfouz was obviously criticizing the docile attitude of the Sufi establishment in addressing Egypt’s major problems of the time.
I was not satisfied with these imams as most of them are political agents of the government rather than independent entities who represent their communities and congregations. When you listen to a sermon in which the imams thank the leader – the king or the president – that is an indication that he is an appointed imam, or that he is catering to the existing authorities. As such, he is speaking for himself, and not for or against his constituents. In the Islamic tradition, there is a saying about appointed imams in the context of a story that “the frog was asked one day why don’t you speak out? He said, ‘Well, I have water in my mouth, and does a mouth full of water ever speak?’ So traditionally, court imams have been described as a frog, who cannot speak out because his mouth is full with water.
On the following Friday, I went to the city of Imbaba, one of the freest spaces in Cairo – the home of Islamism and activism. This is the place in Northern Cairo in which residents declared an Islamic state in 1992; the state responded by cordoning off the area, prompting riots and gun battles with the residents. 700 people were arrested, and many declared themselves to be leaders of the al-Jama’ al-Islamiyyah. At the mosque of Imam Hussein, the presiding imam highlighted corruption in the street, the neighborhood and the government. He then talked about politics in the Middle East, ranging from Palestine, Lebanon and Afghanistan, to Iraq and Iran, emphasizing the role of the U.S. in each of these conflicts. The imam did not address the election, nor did he mention the names of either Obama or McCain. However, he stated unequivocally that there is no hope of change coming from America, no matter who the leader is; whether government remains the same or changes, the struggle between truth and falsehood will never end.
It is clear from the imam’s stance that whether it is Obama or McCain tomorrow, the U.S.’s policy will remain as it was with Clinton of yesterday and Bush of today. This line of thought is old and engrained in a psychology of resistance that goes back to Sayyid Qutb in his 1946 article in the Ar-resalah magazine. In the article, Qutb concluded after a lengthily criticism of the West that “really I hate and despise those Westerners! All without exception; the British, the French, the Dutch and now the Americans who were one time trusted.”
Since Qutb is the most influential Muslim theorist in modern time, his views have set the political agenda of both Arab nationalism and Muslim activism. They became a slogan in many nationalist movements of the 1950s. Gamal A. Nassir made use of it in the war of 1967, and Anwar Sadat used it in his 1973 war. Even King Faisal of Saudi Arabia used it when he threatened to cut oil production in the Middle East in 1970s. The last one to use it was Saddam in 2003. The very concept of America as the “Great Satan,” which was popularized by Imam Khomeini in Iran in 1979, has its roots in Qutb’s article.
Understanding the logic of such an imam in particular and the slogan in general does not require a graduate education. It is a rather simplistic view of a relationship between one who sees himself as oppressed and the other, whom he perceives as the oppressor. As Franz Fanon notes, a rationalization of the behavior of each actor is needed for his cause to remain vibrant, continuous and worthy. Likewise, Edward Said argues, the other also needs to assert his superiority by dehumanizing the logic of the native and his way of life.
I asked Abdallah Schleifer, a professor emeritus of Journalism at the American University in Cairo, why Egyptians are so fascinated by Obama. He felt that there are two reasons: psychological, because they are, like Obama, people of color; and political, they are like all Arabs who are unsatisfied with the current government. However, it seems to me that there are three trends of thought about Obama in this largest city of the Middle East. There are those who love him because he is “Zayyana” (“like us”), those who support him because he is not Bush, and those who admire him because of his slogan of change. On a broader level, the first is true and does apply to those on the street and ordinary people. However, the question remains: what is “Zayyana?” Is it a person of color? Does it mean someone from the “Third World?” Or does it refer to some other undefined characteristic? Only time will tell.
As I refereed between the DukeEngage soccer team and the Somali team in the sweltering mid-day sun back at St. Andrew’s compound, I noticed a small child in the crowd. I knew he was with the American team, the visiting team. I could hear his voice from time to time, interrupted by the screaming players and the loud voice of the security guard who was yelling at the children who kept running across our soccer field. The voice was supporting us; it was saying “OBAMA, OBAMA, OBAMA.” That was the only time that I was sure about what Obama means in Cairo. For this child, it meant us, the DukeEngagers team, who came to teach them free of charge; we who modified the daily meal menu to make it better; we who came all the way to help them find their voice and place in this society. For this child, Obama meant hope and support; it meant taking him from the refugee lifestyle as we, the DukeEngagers, were trying to do.
Although this has been my ninth visit to Cairo, I have never experienced the type of Egyptian interest in American politics as there is at present. Four weeks ago I accompanied a student involved in the DukeEngage program to the Anglo-American hospital for treatment for a heat-related illness. Addressing me, Mr. Sherif, the receptionist, asked: “American?” When I replied in the affirmative, he said “Obama,” and gave the thumbs-up. As I was awaiting the arrival of the student in a different car, I requested a pen and paper. As our conversation co
ntinued, I attempted to look for the meaning that lay beyond what he was saying. Why was this gentleman from Upper Egypt so interested in Barack Obama? Behind his desk, there were sketched photos of Obama taken from different Egyptian newspapers. Ironically, he did not know the name of Obama’s challenger, Senator John McCain. Therefore, I was not able to obtain a satisfactory answer to my questions regarding the popularity of Obama among Cairenes. However, my experiences over the next few weeks would further fuel my interest in the phenomenon of Barack Obama’s immense popularity in Egypt.Only a week ago, the DukeEngagers had been invited to give a talk at Cairo University about the American election. As the students debated over how best to begin the discussion, how to address the audience’s questions, and how to represent every point-of-view, the host, Professor Abu al-Aynein, initiated the conversation by asking about the phenomena of Obama: its roots and core constituency. One of the DukeEngagers, Jon, connected the phenomenon to the rise of a new force in American politics, the cyberspace community that wants to take back politics from Washington. A doctoral candidate from the audience wanted to know the relationship between these online communities and Obama; who is the agent and who is the product? Jon’s explanation lacked the necessary detail to address the many dimensions of the question, and for the next 40 minutes, the discussion centered on Obama. A diplomat from Libya who introduced himself as Dr. Mahmoud noted that he had come to the talk because everyone from China to Saudi Arabia has an interest in Obama’a focus on taghyir, or change, and he was hoping to get an answer from the DukeEngagers.
Our host stated that in his view, Obama is the best thing that is happening in the world right now, but he wondered about the implications of his desire for change: “What does it mean for us---those in the Middle East? Is it [a] continuation of the current policies under a new administration, or a shift from the failed policies?” The students differed in their responses to these questions. One student, Brittany, then suggested that John McCain was the better candidate. The audience was less interested in McCain, whom they generally referred to as Obama’s challenger. Over time, the debate shifted to the DukeEngagers, as the members of the audience appeared to be unanimous in their interest in Obama. Another doctoral student asked a DukeEngager, Dylan, if Obama represented the end of the era of the White Anglo-Saxon Protestant Male (WASP). Dylan appeared to be surprised to hear that term being used in Cairo, and seemed uncomfortable with the question.
To get a better prospective, I called my friend, professor Helmi Sharawi, who is a leading political analyst in Egypt. I asked him for his opinion of Obama. He insisted that I visit him at his house in ‘Ajouza to follow-up on the topic. The next day, we spent two hours discussing politics, during which time he demonstrated little interest in or knowledge of John McCain. At the end of the discussion, he gave me his Obama article in a June edition of the Egyptian National Newspaper, “Al-Ahali,” in which he notes, “Obama’s taghyir is a unique test in the America’s quest for change. I should rather say, the world community yearns for a changed America due to the devastating policies of the outgoing president.”
Two weeks later, I talked to Egypt’s most popular novelist in the post-Naguib Mahfouz era, Alaa Al-Aswani, about arranging a DukeEngage meeting the following week. At the end of our conversation, I solicited his views regarding the upcoming election (without referring to either of the candidates). Without ever mentioning Obama’s rival, he stated “Everyone in Egypt and the Arab world supports Obama, even though he supports Israel. We love what he represents.” He continued, “I am personally very emotional about Obama’s candidacy. I got my masters degree from Chicago, Illinois, and that is the name of my last novel—Chicago.” The following week, we attended his literary Salon, where issues of culture and politics are discussed weekly. It was ironic that as Dr. Karima al-Hafnawi, an executive member in the Kefaya opposition movement (a grassroots organization that opposes President Mubarak’s re-election or his son’s appointment in Mubarak’s place), spoke, she said that “Kefaya stands for all those at the grassroots, whether in Cairo or in the United States. It is against the government of the few—the big businesses—the multi-billion dollar companies. In the United States, it stands for what Michael Moore and Obama stand for.”
All of these experiences have further fueled my desire to understand this widespread interest in Obama, as without exception, everyone has expressed an affinity for him. I can remember the old man at the corner store of our street in Garden City telling me that he likes Obama because "huwa Zayyana" (he is like us), although he never succeeded in explaining what he meant by “Zayyana.” Between June 21 and July 25 I have reviewed four leading Egyptian daily newspapers. I have counted 18 columns with subtitles about Obama, and none about McCain. In the instances in which McCain was mentioned, it was in the context of explaining Obama’s politics. For example, on July 7, there were two columns a
bout Obama in the leading daily newspaper, “Al-Ahram.” Each attempted to analyze Obama. One was titled “the Middle East …in the aftermath of [the] Obama revolution,” and the second one carried the title “Obama: the author.” Both articles attempted to introduce Obama to an Arab reader, but in a positive light; both articles also discussed the possibility of a conspiracy to prevent his election on the part of interests groups. In the first article, the writer discussed the history of the rise of the lobbies within Congress, and the various obstacles to reforming the current system. He then compared the efforts of both McCain and Obama in implementing this reform. He concluded by stating his preference for Obama over McCain as the most legitimate reformer, and the candidate best positioned to implement the necessary reforms. In the second, article, the writer criticized the lack of quality translations of important works in the Arab world, where traditionally, “Egypt writes and translates, Lebanon publishes and Iraq reads.” He then suggested that Obama’s two books, Dreams of My Father and The Audacity of Hope be translated. The author then presented a picture of Obama taken entirely from the two books, arguing that he is a man of words, literature and charisma. The last sentence in the article stated, “He is a president made by his relationship with words—either written or spoken.” Since the mosque is most free space in the Arab world, and since the sphere that guides politics and perception in Middle East often emerges from the culture of the mosque, and since imams, although marginalized in the War on Terror, are the most influential social agents in the Middle East, I decided to bring the topic of Obama’s phenomenal popularity
to the mosque. I visited Masjid ‘Amr Makram, which is the official mosque of Cairo. It is located just behind the Mugamma building, and about a half-mile from the American University in Cairo. I waited for about a half-hour as the middle-aged imam, Dr. ‘Azaam, talked to the people who had come to meet with him following the Friday prayer, until he grabbed my hand and motioned for me to walk with him. We talked about the general political issues, but while he never mentioned McCain’s name, he repeated the phrase “Obama kwayez” (Obama is good). He wanted for us to meet later in the week, but unfortunately I was too pre-occupied to take up his offer. This experience was similar to what I had encountered on another occasion, when Imam Muhammad Hammad of the landmark mosque of Al-Refa'i addressed me as “Obama” as we were taking a photo, despite the fact that neither Obama nor the election had been a part of our discussion of Sufism. As we met in his office in the mosque three weeks later, I asked him for his views on the upcoming election in the U.S., to which he replied, “May Allah support Obama.” When I inquired into the reason for such a strong statement, he said, “Don’t you see the catastrophic policies in Iraq.” A couple of DukeEngage students wanted me to translate what he was saying in Arabic, and as a result, our conversation was cut short. However, I could not help questioning the logic of his response. Barack Obama is not running against Bush, so why was he bringing up Bush’s name in the discussion? The only possible answer was that for him, McCain represents a continuation of the policies of the current president. Following my conversation with the imam, I attended a Sufi halaqa that has been taking place at the mosque for decades. Sufism embodies the spiritual dimension of Islam that cuts across the Shi’a and Sunni divide. This is among the few mosques in Cairo where one can attend a Sufi “dance,” as DukeEngagers call this ritual practice. After the service, I asked the Sheikh about his views on the election. The neatly-dressed Sheikh flashed a wide smile, and gave me some candy before commenting that “Siyasa, bas Mashakil” (politics are only problems). That marked the end of my search of Obama with the Sheikh, and I walked with him to see the tomb of the Shah of Iran and other Egyptian leaders in the back of the mosque.
Sufi apathy toward politics is as old as the Shi’a Sunni’s divide in Islam. This stems from the Sufi’s reaction to the two groups’ preoccupation with power transfer after the death of the Prophet of Islam, with the Shi’a support going to ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib, the Prophet’s nephew, and Sunni support going in favor the other caliphates . As this conflict took a bloody turn, the Sufi movement intensified in Mecca, and then in many other corners in the Muslim world. They argue that Islam is a self-perpetuated spiritual journey, far away from worldly politics. They also reconstructed the meaning of jihad to its higher scope—the personal—the inner struggle. This refrain from politics has been problematic for most Sufi who are often described in Muslim intellectual discourse as not aloof to oppressive regimes, friend of colonial authorities, and in modern time, as unable to offer a constructive insight to the challenges of modernity. Naguib Mahfouz’s 1961 novel, The Thief and the Dogs, highlighted how the inability of a Sufi sheikh to help the main character, Said Mahran, address real life problem created social anarchy. Mahfouz was obviously criticizing the docile attitude of the Sufi establishment in addressing Egypt’s major problems of the time.
I was not satisfied with these imams as most of them are political agents of the government rather than independent entities who represent their communities and congregations. When you listen to a sermon in which the imams thank the leader – the king or the president – that is an indication that he is an appointed imam, or that he is catering to the existing authorities. As such, he is speaking for himself, and not for or against his constituents. In the Islamic tradition, there is a saying about appointed imams in the context of a story that “the frog was asked one day why don’t you speak out? He said, ‘Well, I have water in my mouth, and does a mouth full of water ever speak?’ So traditionally, court imams have been described as a frog, who cannot speak out because his mouth is full with water.
On the following Friday, I went to the city of Imbaba, one of the freest spaces in Cairo – the home of Islamism and activism. This is the place in Northern Cairo in which residents declared an Islamic state in 1992; the state responded by cordoning off the area, prompting riots and gun battles with the residents. 700 people were arrested, and many declared themselves to be leaders of the al-Jama’ al-Islamiyyah. At the mosque of Imam Hussein, the presiding imam highlighted corruption in the street, the neighborhood and the government. He then talked about politics in the Middle East, ranging from Palestine, Lebanon and Afghanistan, to Iraq and Iran, emphasizing the role of the U.S. in each of these conflicts. The imam did not address the election, nor did he mention the names of either Obama or McCain. However, he stated unequivocally that there is no hope of change coming from America, no matter who the leader is; whether government remains the same or changes, the struggle between truth and falsehood will never end.
It is clear from the imam’s stance that whether it is Obama or McCain tomorrow, the U.S.’s policy will remain as it was with Clinton of yesterday and Bush of today. This line of thought is old and engrained in a psychology of resistance that goes back to Sayyid Qutb in his 1946 article in the Ar-resalah magazine. In the article, Qutb concluded after a lengthily criticism of the West that “really I hate and despise those Westerners! All without exception; the British, the French, the Dutch and now the Americans who were one time trusted.”
Since Qutb is the most influential Muslim theorist in modern time, his views have set the political agenda of both Arab nationalism and Muslim activism. They became a slogan in many nationalist movements of the 1950s. Gamal A. Nassir made use of it in the war of 1967, and Anwar Sadat used it in his 1973 war. Even King Faisal of Saudi Arabia used it when he threatened to cut oil production in the Middle East in 1970s. The last one to use it was Saddam in 2003. The very concept of America as the “Great Satan,” which was popularized by Imam Khomeini in Iran in 1979, has its roots in Qutb’s article.
Understanding the logic of such an imam in particular and the slogan in general does not require a graduate education. It is a rather simplistic view of a relationship between one who sees himself as oppressed and the other, whom he perceives as the oppressor. As Franz Fanon notes, a rationalization of the behavior of each actor is needed for his cause to remain vibrant, continuous and worthy. Likewise, Edward Said argues, the other also needs to assert his superiority by dehumanizing the logic of the native and his way of life.
I asked Abdallah Schleifer, a professor emeritus of Journalism at the American University in Cairo, why Egyptians are so fascinated by Obama. He felt that there are two reasons: psychological, because they are, like Obama, people of color; and political, they are like all Arabs who are unsatisfied with the current government. However, it seems to me that there are three trends of thought about Obama in this largest city of the Middle East. There are those who love him because he is “Zayyana” (“like us”), those who support him because he is not Bush, and those who admire him because of his slogan of change. On a broader level, the first is true and does apply to those on the street and ordinary people. However, the question remains: what is “Zayyana?” Is it a person of color? Does it mean someone from the “Third World?” Or does it refer to some other undefined characteristic? Only time will tell.
As I refereed between the DukeEngage soccer team and the Somali team in the sweltering mid-day sun back at St. Andrew’s compound, I noticed a small child in the crowd. I knew he was with the American team, the visiting team. I could hear his voice from time to time, interrupted by the screaming players and the loud voice of the security guard who was yelling at the children who kept running across our soccer field. The voice was supporting us; it was saying “OBAMA, OBAMA, OBAMA.” That was the only time that I was sure about what Obama means in Cairo. For this child, it meant us, the DukeEngagers team, who came to teach them free of charge; we who modified the daily meal menu to make it better; we who came all the way to help them find their voice and place in this society. For this child, Obama meant hope and support; it meant taking him from the refugee lifestyle as we, the DukeEngagers, were trying to do.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Veni Vidi Vici
More or less.
Either way, our DukeEngage adventure has now concluded. Or at least this stage. At this point I don't feel that my thoughts have had proper time to gestate enough for me to construct a coherent reflection of the last two months. However I think it is necessary to collect some initial reactions to what has probably been the most intensely formative two months of my short two decades.
For now though, I want to share one experience that provides a culminating reference point for my DukeEngage experience.
Last week, after finishing our teaching program at St. Andrew's, the girls' organized a woman's empowerment workshop. Naturally, the boys were not allowed. On the second day I received a phone call from my friend Liz saying that one of my girls (whom I had taught during the main project) really wanted to see me again. She expected for me to be at the workshop, and when she discovered that this was not a possibility she was apparently quite distraught.
So I rushed back from a meeting in Heliopolis and visited the workshop site -- Prof. Lo's apartment. The second I arrived at the door Sahro popped out with a huge smile and greeted me with her newly-acquired English. Saying goodbye to my new friend was nigh impossible ... I realized that despite all potential shortcomings we had developed a true friendship over the last six weeks. Sahro said she was so sad that she would not see me for a long time -- I expressed similar concerns, but with the hope that we would cross paths again. We said the same things over and over again, as if repeating them would make it easier to part. It was clear that she was holding back tears several times, and I admit to shed a few in the elevator when leaving the building.
Sahro told me that she loved the summer program and loved having me as her teacher. She told me she hopes to stay in touch and see me again some day. She said that will miss me very much. I couldn't agree more.
Did I come, see, and conquer? The first two without question. But the third? Definitely not. Rather, I was conquered.
I lived in Africa for two months, engaged several independent projects, and emerged something distinctly different from where I began. Moreover, I know that this experience gave me unfathomably valuable perspectives that would not have been available elsewhere. Many the function of Cairo, our team, and our studies -- but mostly the result of my friendship with our Somalians.
I didn't teach Sahro, she taught me.
And as they say in Arabic,
التعليم من المهد إلى اللهد
"learning is from the cradle to the grave"
Either way, our DukeEngage adventure has now concluded. Or at least this stage. At this point I don't feel that my thoughts have had proper time to gestate enough for me to construct a coherent reflection of the last two months. However I think it is necessary to collect some initial reactions to what has probably been the most intensely formative two months of my short two decades.
For now though, I want to share one experience that provides a culminating reference point for my DukeEngage experience.
Last week, after finishing our teaching program at St. Andrew's, the girls' organized a woman's empowerment workshop. Naturally, the boys were not allowed. On the second day I received a phone call from my friend Liz saying that one of my girls (whom I had taught during the main project) really wanted to see me again. She expected for me to be at the workshop, and when she discovered that this was not a possibility she was apparently quite distraught.
So I rushed back from a meeting in Heliopolis and visited the workshop site -- Prof. Lo's apartment. The second I arrived at the door Sahro popped out with a huge smile and greeted me with her newly-acquired English. Saying goodbye to my new friend was nigh impossible ... I realized that despite all potential shortcomings we had developed a true friendship over the last six weeks. Sahro said she was so sad that she would not see me for a long time -- I expressed similar concerns, but with the hope that we would cross paths again. We said the same things over and over again, as if repeating them would make it easier to part. It was clear that she was holding back tears several times, and I admit to shed a few in the elevator when leaving the building.
Sahro told me that she loved the summer program and loved having me as her teacher. She told me she hopes to stay in touch and see me again some day. She said that will miss me very much. I couldn't agree more.
Did I come, see, and conquer? The first two without question. But the third? Definitely not. Rather, I was conquered.
I lived in Africa for two months, engaged several independent projects, and emerged something distinctly different from where I began. Moreover, I know that this experience gave me unfathomably valuable perspectives that would not have been available elsewhere. Many the function of Cairo, our team, and our studies -- but mostly the result of my friendship with our Somalians.
I didn't teach Sahro, she taught me.
And as they say in Arabic,
التعليم من المهد إلى اللهد
"learning is from the cradle to the grave"
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